Stay Here Tonight
by Ego And Psyche
Summary: Takes place between JE Acts 1 and 2: a week into their relationship, Nowaki is at Hiroki's apartment for an evening study session. And Hiroki just hates to be cold...some angst, a lemon, and simply ridiculous amounts of fluff. Can't spell 'implied sex' without the M!
1. This Time

_Stay Here Tonight_

_This Time_

**[A/N] Bad of me to begin a new fic when FTR's got rockets in your pockets already? Maaaaybe. :P But this is pretty short and just has to be gotten out of my head before it drowns in fluff. Speaking of which, I should probably put in a warning here: FLUFF! A KAJILLION TONS OF IT! It's so freakin' fluffy that it's not even 'fluff', it's 'FLOFF' with an O! There, don't say I didn't tell ya. And it's in present tense…because I find present tense kinda sexy. (Those of you who read Daylit Storm before I had to take it down might see why. XD)**

**Ah, and Hiroki might seem pricklier than usual here because this is towards the beginning of the Egoists' relationship 'n everything…can't deny he was a bit of a live wire back then. (Though still deredere an adorable. Heh.)**

oOo

Nowaki can't concentrate anymore. He hasn't been able to for a while now; his ears are straining for the sound of rain falling against his windows, his door, anywhere. But there's nothing. The storm has gone as suddenly as it came.

Hiroki is still teaching…or can it be called teaching, when the only listener is not taking in a word? The man is absorbed in his material, index finger flitting from a textbook placed carefully off to the side to rest briefly on the notebook that is serving as a substitute chalkboard, then back to the text, his eyes dancing in perfect tandem with the pen-clutching hand, and his voice weaving through both motions like a conductor's baton. It's a lovely sight, but partially lost on his student, who is only half there no matter how he tries to focus on the present.

_Just ten more minutes, then dinner, then I have to leave._

There's nothing different about Hiroki tonight that makes his lover of just a week so burningly anxious to stay on. He's impatient, harsh, falsely reluctant…and helplessly cute. It's the same as always, and yet Nowaki is suddenly unable to face the prospect of going back to his own apartment as he watches the pale pink lips form words that have lost all meaning. He struggles to remember what an effort his Hiro-san is making to set aside so much time and tutor him; it works for all of twenty seconds before he's zoning out again, only to be pulled back by the sound of his name.

'Nowaki.'

He jerks out of his daze with an apologetic 'I'm sorry', keeping his gaze trained on the table. It makes so much more sense for him to enjoy what time he does happen to share with Hiroki. Now if only it weren't so ridiculously difficult. _And if it's difficult to enjoy something…it can't be enjoyable, can it?_

'Nowaki, should we eat now?' Hiroki is saying, rapping briskly on the wood with two slim knuckles. 'You're completely out of it.'

Nowaki decides that meeting his lover's eyes is worth the risk, and is somewhat taken aback at the flat concern in them.

'If you're not paying attention, it's not fair to the teacher, who's talking to empty space, and certainly not fair to the student, because this is the first and last time I'll be covering this.' The lips twist in a grimace. 'Just get dinner started.'

The blue eyes lower again. He's had a whole ten minutes taken off his time now; a cruelly fitting punishment, he supposes, for wanting more time in the first place. 'I'm sorry', he mumbles again. 'I'll start cooking then. What do you want?' he adds absently, slipping into the little ritual that unfolds every time he cooks at Hiroki's place: the man is not a fussy eater, but Nowaki feels compelled to ask anyway, knowing the answer full well.

'Anything's fine.'

But he can't really say that it's one of the things that makes them a couple, not when they've only been together for seven days—_exactly seven days, I wonder if he realizes?—_not when it's been happening since long before they began going out. As he unfolds his long legs and crosses over to the fridge, his mind taking hurried inventory of the supplies and deciding on _tonjiru*_, he reminds himself that they will have plenty of time to form more routine exchanges, more gestures. Plenty of time, if they last that long. _Is it possible to be absolutely sure?_

And with all the youthful enthusiasm of somebody who has an entire lifetime awaiting them he decides that yes, he will be absolutely sure. 'Hiro-san, I'm making _tonjiru_', he calls over his shoulder, pleasantly surprised at the 'good' that he receives in reply, because that's a first.

oOo

They eat in silence; that's normal. Hiroki, unlike his younger lover, has no problem directing all of his considerable mental faculties to whatever task he's immersed in. Unlike Nowaki, he does not glance at the person across the table every two minutes.

And Nowaki's still praying for rain.

There had been a sporadic burst of wild, thundery rain when they began the study session, and come to think of it, he is now wont to blame his newfound separation anxiety on just that—if it hadn't been for the storm, he wouldn't have thought_ I won't be able to go home if this keeps up_ and his heart wouldn't have leapt a mile and a half, and he wouldn't have found himself imagining what it would be like to sleep over at Hiro-san's apartment once, just once. The storm started everything and bailed without so much as offering to fix it.

The food's complete and total mush in his mouth and he realizes that he's been chewing the same morsel for quite a while without swallowing. Which means that not only has he lost his appetite, but his entire body is thinking of ways to stretch out the time between this and his ultimate departure. It doesn't matter, of course. If Hiroki wants him out, he'll be out before he can say 'what'.

Thinking of the power that his lover holds over him in so many ways brings an utterly miserable sigh to his lips.

Hiroki looks up to raise his eyebrows. 'Really, what's with you today?' he asks quietly. 'You've never spaced out when I teach.' The underlying assertion that it's _his_ teaching that so captivates Nowaki seems to surface a second later, accompanied by a slight tinge of color to the usually-pale cheeks. It makes the boy smile faintly.

'It's nothing, Hiro-san.' That's all he can offer as an explanation. Not _I want to stay tonight, and tomorrow morning, and every day after that,_ because those words would mean everything and yet nothing if the man has no idea what it would cost his lover to say them.

'I don't want to leave', he doesn't say. After the gentle negation of how perceptive Hiroki shows himself to be at times, Nowaki resumes eating and successfully attempts not to look up for the remainder of the meal.

Dishes are washed.

Seconds are spent, painfully noticeable.

Shoes are slipped on. Nowaki is clinging to every moment, though his mood is marginally lightened at the thought that Hiroki sees him out these days, rather than just grunting an acknowledgement from his place at the table without so much as looking up.

Suddenly, 'Listen.'

'Yes, Hiro-san?'

'How are you going back?'

'I have my bicycle chained up outside.'

A pause. 'It'll have gotten wet in the rain.'

'…Yes.'

He has been treading carefully for so long now.

Maybe too long if he can't stop the hands that finally pull Hiroki to him. It's easy to set the man off, but Nowaki's lips literally leave no room for dissent as they seek the mouth that has imparted so much wasted knowledge over the hours. The kiss is long and silent.

Hiroki is not struggling. Far from it. Nowaki is almost weepy with happiness as he feels a second pair of hands hug him back. It's one of the memories that he will take back with him, replay in his mind and body when he feels discouraged, to remind himself that the wall he's up against is more pliable than he thinks.

'Good night, Hiro-san', he murmurs, allowing his chin to rest briefly on top of the shaggy brown head before leaning a bit further away; directly and indirectly, he's often received the impression that Hiroki somehow resents the difference in their heights, and he has no desire to rub this in. _Another thing that I can fix with time and love?_ He wonders, gazing at the perpetually tousled cinnamon locks that cling to the fabric of his jacket.

Before he can answer this question, though, he has to tend to an external one. 'Nowaki?' the smaller man is saying, voice gruff against the broad chest with what the boy knows to be embarrassment. Nowaki hums softly, knowing he will have to let go now. Happier and yet now even unhappier.

Hiroki's arms tighten almost imperceptibly. Nowaki is still relishing the feel of them against his back when the growl picks up again, deeper and softer this time, all but inaudible, but nonetheless as clearly heard as the thunder that began all of this.

'Stay here tonight.'

oOo

**[A/N] Tonjiru: Pork miso soup.**

**By the way, the M rating means that I **_**will**_** take my chances against FF's new censorship with a softcore lemon somewhere around chapter 3…only not so much a lemon as an aezotropic centimolar solution of lime juice. *SCIENCE NERD!* (1 Molar solution=1 liter of solvent containing the numerical value of the solute's molecular weight in grams, i.e. one mole of solute; centimolar solution=0.01 Molar) (Aezotropic mixture=a mixture of two (obviously miscible) liquids that cannot be separated by fractional distillation)**

…**So that's your science for today. :D Sorry if all of you already know this and I'm just sounding silly for explaining :O! But anyway, you can read the full-blown concentrated version on where I now have an account under the same penname. Updates will take place simultaneously on both sites. :)**

**As always, reviews are very, very welcome.**


	2. Breakdown

_Breakdown_

**[A/N] Reviews! Thank you! :) As you may have guessed, this is a bit of an outlet for my fluff-happy brain because FTR is pretty much running on angst and hurt/comfort for the time being. *headlaptop* but I really wanted to explore their first few days together in canon anyway, because I'm so taken with the thought of a 'baby relationship' (not that I'm a child person at all in real life though). **

**In other news, trying to cut down on my wall-of-text-esque AN's. XD Enjoy!**

oOo

And he's blown away; he has no words left as he lets his head flop onto Hiroki's shoulder, no matter how inconvenient their heights make this, and nods feebly.

Nowaki's glad that he's not very surprised at the offer, because when he catches himself being thrown off-balance by a gesture of affection from his lover he can't help but feel a great amount of self-reproach for underestimating the man's role in their new relationship. _It's not hard to do so though, is it?_ some part of him whispers sulkily, but this voice evaporates when he draws Hiroki into him again, holding him as close as physically possible.

'It's only because your bicycle must be wet from the rain', muttered Hiroki, his blush setting the taller boy's chest on fire. 'Don't get cocky.' He cleared his throat and wiggled out of the warm arms. 'And unless you plan on sleeping in the genkan, we should get a move on.'

This pulls up the vague question of where he's going to sleep in Nowaki's mind, but he supposes it's silly to shy away from sharing a bed. Especially when they're going out. Especially when their first—and so far _only_, the boy thinks ruefully—time had been on said bed. _Especially_ when, because of this, Nowaki knows just how narrow the bed is, and how soft, and how good his Hiro-san's bare skin feels in his embrace because there is no way the two of them will fit side by side without some form of cuddling. Silly that the very thought should bring a sheepish grin to his face that he has to hide or risk getting hit.

Maybe it's not so silly.

_I don't have a change of clothes._ Should he sleep in the ones he has on? Rather than entertain this possibility, his mind presents to him a handy method of removing the need for clothes in the first place. This new perversion of his, a trait that he's still getting used to, makes him laugh softly as he follows Hiroki back inside.

'What is it?' asks the man irritably. Nowaki shakes his head at his lover's back, then grins wider. _I'm slap happy right now,_ he realizes. 'Nothing.' But after a moment, he adds, 'I'm happy, that's all.'

Hiroki's blush is practically distorting the air around him. 'Whatever.'

It's the closest that Hiroki has ever come to reciprocation—not pushing the boy away, not even pretending to. Acceptance has been stealing over him as the days progressed; while Nowaki still gets a healthy dose of 'Idiot!' thrown his way from time to time, he is no longer yelled at for admitting his feelings. The thought makes him outrageously happy, and for a moment he is well and truly frightened by how much he loves this person.

To banish this baseless fear, he quickens his pace and gathers Hiroki up from behind, marveling yet again at the firmness of the broad back against his chest. He's really not used to it yet—this feeling of hanging on to another for dear life, this sensation of freefall. It goes against everything he's made himself into so far, and still seems to be the only thing he's done right.

_Useless thoughts again,_ he thinks absently, fighting the urge to rock his lover back and forth in his arms as some sort of anchor; he's still standing like that when a rough shake brings him back. 'Let go, idiot! How am I supposed to get anything done with you clinging to me like this?'

Despite the harshness of the words, Nowaki is sure he hears an undercurrent of happiness: the voice is certainly trembling. He sighs and releases Hiroki who immediately walks away into the bedroom, posture almost comically stiff.

'I don't suppose my clothes will fit you', sounds a growl from the semi-darkness as the taller of the two makes his way after the smaller one. 'Um, my pajama pants should do fine, though. Try them on—in the bathroom or something.' He tosses a loose-looking pair of trousers at Nowaki, who catches them in mid-throw.

_Like we haven't seen each other naked._

Nowaki has a sneaking suspicion that Hiroki will seize the chance to throw on his own nightclothes when he's not around to watch and reluctantly decides to give the man what privacy he wants. 'All right, Hiro-san. Thank you', he smiles, turning to go to the bathroom. _It's just been a week._

_A whole week._

_It's not like we're married or something—_

He blushes mildly at his own thoughts as enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. _Where did that come from?_ He's still new enough to this love not to have spared that aspect much thought; despite the overwhelming depth of his feelings, he's been so caught up in past and present that the future is completely dark in his mind.

But…

_I've been ready to spend my life with him from the moment I first saw him._ The pale blue pants fit comfortably enough, perhaps a little scant around his ankles but comfortable and soft. And they smell like Hiroki. Just like Hiroki.

_He's so cute._ The shirt is taken off too as an afterthought, and he's wondering just what his mind is up to now.

Nowaki makes sure to dawdle around in the bathroom for a good thirty seconds extra, giving Hiroki plenty of time to finish changing before stepping out. When he does emerge, the lamp on the nightstand has been turned on and a slim figure in a deep blue t-shirt and boxers is absently straightening up the books lying all around the room. 'Do you need to brush your teeth?'

'Oh', says Nowaki sheepishly, realizing he does. 'Yeah. I don't suppose you have an extra toothbrush?'

'I do', mutters Hiroki, not meeting the boy's eyes. 'It's in the stand next to the sink in the bathroom. Still wrapped. I was…supposed to be replacing my old one—but it's fine. Just use it.'

Something in the voice, maybe its telltale dip into the octaves of embarrassment, makes Nowaki grin. 'Very well, Hiro-san. Thank you.'

The toothbrush is blue too.

oOo

Hiroki in the lamplight is adorable. Nowaki watches from the doorway of the bathroom as his lover slowly peels back the bedspread and mutters a couple of curses under his breath; like as not, it's probably to do with the fact that he has only one pillow.

_So am I sleeping in his bed or not?_

Right on cue, Hiroki mumbles, 'stop leering from there unless you want to sleep on the couch.'

There's no way for Nowaki to control his smile. None at all. He shuts the door obligingly behind him and strolls over to the foot of the bed while trying to look as casual as possible. 'So now that I'm here and not there, where will I be sleeping?'

'Don't ask stupid questions', says Hiroki sharply. He seems to finish whatever curious little petting-down action he was administering to the bed and scrambles inelegantly through the blankets, yanking them up to his chin and scowling. 'If you're going to get in, do it.'

'All right, Hiro-san', comes the obedient reply again, not without a faint laugh. _I've turned into a pervert._ Nowaki lifts the edge of the blanket and eases his tall frame into what's left of the space there. His resolve to maintain some room between their bodies for the older man's sake, despite their sharing a pillow (not to mention the tiny bed), vanishes instantly.

'Nowaki?'

'Hmm?'

'…you took your shirt off.' It might as well have been mumbled into a pillow for all its audibility.

_To hell with this._

He reaches out and gently grasps Hiroki by the shoulders, turning him onto his side so they're face to face. Then he lets his arms complete their circle and rest on his lover's back as they lean into each other.

Nowaki presses a soft kiss to Hiroki's forehead, then one each on the eyelids that have fluttered shut. The simple acceptance and lack of fighting are proving too much for his heart; that strange weepiness is lurking in him again.

He's never wanted to cry with happiness before.

'Hiro-san', he whispers in a blush-pink ear. 'Thank you for letting me stay the night.'

'Mmm', murmurs Hiroki, his eyes still shut. 'It's only because your bicycle's wet, brat.' The word _brat_ has never sounded so musical before.

Nowaki rumbles in delighted amusement before replying playfully, 'I could have just wiped it dry.'

'No you couldn't', comes the half-hearted growl. 'It's cold outside.' Pause. A long pause. 'And inside, too.' Uncannily, the faint _plinks_ he can suddenly hear all around tell him that it has begun to rain again.

A few things fall into place at once and Nowaki closes his own eyes, basking in the faint friction of his lover's t-shirt against his bare chest. 'Hiro-san?'

'What?' it sounds relaxed but not quite sleepy.

'You seem to be very fond of the color blue', Nowaki says idly, keeping a tight hold on the smaller man lest he explode without warning. To his surprise, Hiroki simply gives a noncommittal grunt. 'Maybe.'

Blue eyes open and smile in speculation and hope that will not be articulated, at least not yet. A large hand traces its lazy way up to the back of the smooth, pale neck, fingers dancing in and out of the hairline, swirling through chestnut locks, twining themselves deep in. The head is pushed forward, very softly, until it's a mere breath away from the darker one.

Nowaki presses another light kiss to Hiroki's lips this time, pulling apart just before his tongue can dart into the man's compliant mouth. He waits for the sienna eyes to open and for the confusion in them to melt away. Then he asks, 'are _you_ cold, Hiro-san?'

He can feel a rushing heartbeat and a trembling body. He sees wide eyes, mortified, startled, embarrassed, and full of wonder.

'Always', Hiroki whispers into the tiny space where their toothpaste-flavored breaths twirl together. All the roaring of the rain does nothing to drown him out.

It's probably just because this feeling is still so new to him; that's the only explanation. There's no other reason Nowaki's heart should be pounding so stupidly now, blood rushing all over his body, up to his face which heats as though ignited, and further down where his balls have begun to throb.

On hand travels down to where Hiroki's overlarge t-shirt falls to the swell of the man's ass, playing with the hem for a moment before slipping under to memorize the roughness of the boxers and how solid they feel against his lover's skin. He's almost forgotten which part of Hiroki's anatomy it's covering, mesmerized by the body-warmed fabric, until a breath catches in the chest pressed against him.

Hiroki laughs, quiet and breathy. 'Nowaki, what are you doing?'

'I don't know.' His fingers have reached the waistband now, pausing to ask for permission. Before he knows it he's tilted down for another chaste kiss, always keeping his tongue out of the way, vaguely realizing how teasing his behavior must seem, not really caring. Or maybe caring and liking it because it makes his lover unexpectedly acquiescent.

_I must be poking him._ He laughs too on realizing that he's not the only one who needs to worry about that now; the protrusion he can feel on his lower belly certainly isn't his own.

'_What am I doing?'_ _Seriously?_

_Seriously._ Hiroki's eyes are half-shut but inquiring nonetheless, and Nowaki sees a deeper level of the question that he so airily tossed aside.

He lets his fingers abandon the waistband and continue upwards instead, tapping a rain-like unset pattern on the small of Hiroki's back. _What am I doing now, warming him up?_ But he has no smart-mouthed reply this time; only the truth.

'Loving you, Hiro-san.'

_I love this person._

New and yet as familiar as his skin. Hiroki lowers his head until it brushes Nowaki's jaw, his lips touching the boy's neck in the lightest of kisses before rising again. It's the first one that he's initiated.

Nowaki is acutely aware of this even as he finally allows his tongue into his lover's mouth.

oOo

**[A/N] Let me tell you people, I died on a minutely basis while writing this because I was choking on all that fluff. Damn…I'm the fucking fluff queen, someone get me my feathery crown already. And DIS. Is my kingdom. (And the tax is reviews, so please pay up. XD) Coming up is something that you may assume to be a lemon (if you're on FF) or a real full-blown lemon (if you're on YFF).**


	3. Monsoon

_Monsoon_

**[A/N] So here's the not-quite-a-lemon. Kinda like a lemon patch. XD Though why anyone'd wanna kick this addiction beats me. Anyway, real version's gonna be up on YFF in a day, and if you drop by there too please do leave a review :3**

**Oh, and you just might wanna pop off to YFF and read Daylit Storm (by me! Trololol) before this, because some things might be clearer that way…I have a very detailed headcanon of the Egoists' sex life—I'm a perv, huh? Captain Obvious to the rescue!—so all my canon lemons will somehow be interrelated ^_^ hey, you're getting two lemons. Do I hear complaining? :O**

oOo

'Nowaki…'

Nowaki loves the little quiver that Hiroki lends his name already, and he's only hearing it for the second time; this is the second time his lover has said it that way, all apprehension and pleasure and no resistance whatsoever, no capacity to resist when hands are sliding over skin with such tortuous intent.

But what he loves even more is teasing his Hiro-san, he's discovered now. Of course, it's just an additional benefit for Nowaki when what he really wants to do now is explore; nonetheless, the valiantly suppressed hisses that Hiroki is emitting all translate into _just get on with it_ and the boy has no intention of doing anything of the sort soon.

Clothes have completely disappeared, he notes with a dry chuckle: his self-given advice proved valid enough. The reluctantly begging sienna eyes narrow at this. 'What's funny?'

Nowaki realizes he's been staring. _Probably not the best time to ogle…_not when Hiroki's so ready and, in his own way, so willing. He somehow senses that the man will self-consciously reach for the pillow in a moment, seeking to shield himself from Nowaki's eyes, and sinks back into the firm angles of his lover's body before this can happen.

'You really are cute, Hiro-san', he murmurs reassuringly, working away at a new sensitive area on Hiroki's clavicle that's only just been found. Hiroki attempts a snort. 'Don't say stupid things.'

'All right', grins Nowaki, ever the obedient student. 'Getting straight to the point then…is the lube still under the bed?'

'Brat. No it isn't.' His sentences are growing shorter, more labored.

'Where then?' a hand traces elaborate patterns on Hiroki's lower belly.

'W-Why don't you just find it y-yours—ah hell…pillow—under th-the pillow.'

And sure enough, it's under the pillow. Nowaki hazily thinks back to when Hiroki was making some strange sort of adjustment to the bedclothes before climbing in, and grins so widely his cheek muscles hurt. He's glad his lover's eyes are tightly shut by now.

He's glad for the unseen streaks of need that burgeon in Hiroki and that will never be admitted. He's glad for how responsive these narrow hips are, how unsteady as they quiver under his touch…the strings of a harp that only he knows how to play.

_Only me._

He's no longer in the mood to tease. Possessiveness, a seemingly indispensable part of his love, is just as new to him…new enough to blow him away as he struggles not to claim his man in one deliberate stroke. Lusting for comfort and some form of mooring—quietly watching Hiroki's desperate, blissful expression, feeling every flutter and clench of his inner muscles. Basking in the new, new love within the two of them that is fast swelling into a very real sixth sense.

Pushing forward, gently at first, then with helpless urgency. Marveling at the ripples this movement induces within and without Hiroki's body, the faint mewl that finally escapes those lips before it can be bit back. Clinging to these new notes of warmth and happiness…buffeted by them in the high wind of his desire…because to think of the semisolid heat surrounding his member would mean to come instantly.

It's easier for Nowaki to focus instead on how Hiroki moves with him now. They are only beginning to form the rhythm of lovemaking that they will slip into so easily in months and years to come, a rocking, bucking sway, a swirl, a roll like that of troubled waters that the boy finds it only too easy to drown in.

Easier, even, to try and find that one spot inside his lover, the spot that Nowaki knows very little about outside of what it can do to the man whose hips he's buried in. A few changed angles, and Hiroki isn't even attempting to hold back his cries any more.

He's also maddeningly glad for this position; now he need not offset his pace to step back and look at himself…not when Hiroki is facing him without being asked to do so, arms and legs and heaving torso draped around Nowaki in an impatient mess of limbs, every flexing muscle and taut curve thrashing blindly. How similar to the shuddering wantonness that he had displayed the first time…and yet how different when he clutches at his taller lover like this.

_Only me._

Only Nowaki. _He can be this way only with me._

'Nowaki…!'

Deeper, harder, faster. Only him.

Again the quavers that wrack them begin to pick up speed; Nowaki can feel the percussion in his every cell as Hiroki's voice arches upward, mirroring their frenzied movements. He knows that there will be no stopping himself if the urge to come grows any stronger, and as far gone as he is now nothing else offers comfort, nothing except how Hiroki's heat around him spasms and undulates, rushing over them in wild spirals, melting the universe.

'Hiro-san', he gasps warningly, 'Hiro-san, I—'

_I'm going to come—_he had intended to say that, but the instant his lover's name zips from his mouth a new moan is heard and Hiroki _tightens_—his limbs, his entrance, all seize up in their respective embraces. And Nowaki can no longer feel. Not the heat, not the sudden fluid stickiness that's erupted between their stomachs. Hiroki's clenching spasms milk him completely as the boy's arms give way and he groans softly, curling into Hiroki to crest the waves of his orgasm.

He struggles to open his eyes, which have shut without him realizing, and pulls out carefully. Hiroki's countenance is suddenly blank; his eyes are half-open, mouth slightly parted, breathing heavily without making any move to release Nowaki from his tangled limbs.

'Hiro-san…?'

'Shh.' Hiroki shuts his eyes completely, only to open them again, a little wider this time. 'Tissues on the nightstand—we can talk later.'

Nowaki nods—come to think of it, he's a little too tired to talk much right now anyway. He extends a lazy hand towards where he earlier saw a tissue box, snagging a few without looking, wiping both of them down. The gesture, in spite of what they've just done, feels deeply intimate; he staves off his sleepiness to tend to his lover with special care, as Hiroki still twitches with the occasional aftershock and gasps softly when stroked below.

'Don't fall asleep, Hiro-san, please', he mumbles, even though he's fighting to form the words clearly, pulling Hiroki into his arms and dropping his head onto the man's shoulder. 'I want to talk…we couldn't talk last time…you slept…'

By the time 'slept' leaves his lips he's already asleep, so it's safe for Hiroki to whisper 'I'll stay awake', listening to Nowaki's steady breathing and erratic heartbeat dance with his own, waiting for the blue eyes to shine open again.

oOo

**[A/N] 'Don't say stupid things'—this response was ripped off from the yaoi 'Love or Pride', which is in turn a prequel to 'Bittersweet Café'. Oh Yukiya Katsuragi, YOU SO SEXAYYYYY :D**

**Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's a lemon…so review maybe? :3 (Been reading way too many memes these days.)**


	4. Author's Note

Dear readers,

I'm leaving this fandom for reasons I'd rather not disclose. As such, it is with some regret that I inform you that it will be a very long time before I come back to finish my stories, if I ever do so at all.

However, this is not because I have run out of ideas for the fics I am in the midst of writing; if there is a story of mine that's caught your curiosity and you want to know where it goes next, you can shoot me a PM and I will see to it that you are told how exactly how the story will end. I hope that helps a little, though it is still no excuse for abandoning ship like this.

I have set up a new account elsewhere on this site and plan to write, if far less frequently, for one of the popular shonen manga that I am sure most of you have read. If we meet again and you happen to recognize me, I request you not to disclose my previous identity in public, though I will gladly re-establish communication with you via PM.

It's been an honor and a pleasure knowing all of you. Thank you for your interest in my work.

Regards,

~EaP


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